


An Eerie Little Christmas

by ftrbestseller



Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Presents, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftrbestseller/pseuds/ftrbestseller
Summary: Dash X becomes a part of the Teller family's Christmas Eve traditions.
Relationships: Edgar Teller/Marilyn Teller
Kudos: 10





	An Eerie Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> My first offering to AO3, and the first fic I've written in, oh, at least 5 years? I'm a little rusty!

“Marshall, dear... shouldn't Simon have been here by now?”

Marshall looked up from the book he'd been reading ( _Mysterious Mysteries of the Midwest, Volume 3_ ) and glanced at the clock – nearing 5 pm on Christmas Eve and his best friend had yet to make an appearance. So he set the book aside and immediately grabbed his coat.

“I'll go see what's up. Maybe he's not feeling well?”

“On Christmas _Eve_?” Syndi blurted out, clearly horrified.

“Or... or maybe Harley's there. I don't know. Be back soon.” Marshall hastily threw on a scarf and headed out into the snow. A light coating already covered the ground, and the air was hazy in the dimming light, creating a dreamlike holiday atmosphere. For once, Marshall wasn't on the lookout for a snow monster or any other similar eldrich creature – he was simply appreciating the beauty of it all.

It didn't take him long to reach Simon's door – he only lived down the street, after all. Unsure of what he might walk in on, Marshall instead stopped on the porch and knocked on the door.

“Ho ho ho, slick.”

Mars started – he had completely forgotten that Dash was crashing at Simon's place, and he certainly hadn't expected him to answer the door. Dash grinned, pleased to see he'd startled him.

“What's the matter? Elf got your tongue?”

“ _Dash_.” Simon gave Dash a pointed look before squeezing by him out the door. “Oh, hey, Mars. I meant to call you about tonight.”

“Call me? Why? What's up?” Mars questioned, but he realized the answer as soon as the words left his mouth. Said answer was currently looking back and forth between the two of them, one eyebrow quirked.

 _I_ _ **really**_ _don't want Dash around, not tonight, but..._ Mars hid a sigh in his scarf. _Be nice, Mars. It's Christmas._

But then something else occurred to him: “Is Harley not here tonight?”

“No. Mom's supposed to drop him off sometime tomorrow.” Simon's face momentarily darkened. “If she remembers.”

Now Marshall _really_ felt he had to extend the invite. “Well, why don't you both come over then?”

“Both of us?” The look on Simon's face clearly said _are you sure about this?_ Marshall nodded in response to both his spoken and unspoken question.

“We've got plenty of food for dinner. Oh, and bring Benny with you. Syndi would love to see him.”

Simon grinned. “We'll get our coats. C'mon, Dash.”

“Bet Syndi will love to see me, too, huh?” Dash quipped, playfully elbowing Marshall's side. Mars glowered into his scarf and had to remind himself:

_Be nice, Mars. It's Christmas._

“Oh, there you are,” Marilyn said to Simon when the trio came in. As she gave the boy a hug, she asked, “And who's your friend?”

“This is, uh, my cousin. Yep. Cousin Dash.”

“Well, Dash, it's nice to have you here. The more the merrier! I hope you like Swedish pizza! It's our traditional Christmas Eve dinner.”

Dash glanced at Mars and mouthed, _Swedish pizza?_

 _Beggars can't be choosers,_ Marshall almost mouthed back but remembered that he was supposed to play nice, so he stopped himself. Instead he called over to Syndi: “Hey, Simon brought Benny!”

Syndi gasped and sprang up from the couch, making a beeline for the jackalope that Simon held in his arms – the little creature even sported a Christmas plaid bow tie.

“ _Ohhhhhh_ he gets cuter every time I see him!” Syndi squealed as she took Benny from Simon, nuzzling him against her cheek. He responded by giving her a lick. She giggled but then her attention was caught elsewhere - by Dash. “Do I know you?”

“Yeah, I visited a few years ago.” Dash flashed her a grin. “How've _you_ been?”

“ _I'll_ take Benny,” Marshall interjected, stepping directly between them and taking the jackalope. “Syndi, why don't you set another place at the table for Cousin Dash?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And Dash... why don't you go take a look at the tree? Bet you've never seen a nicer Christmas tree.” Marshall's tone implied that this wasn't a request, so Dash backed off and went into the other room to admire the Teller family Christmas tree. It looked like most every other Christmas tree, except when Dash examined it a bit closer...

“Uh, Teller?” Dash pointed at one of the ornaments. “Is this... is this _Bigfoot_?”

“Of course. What's more Christmas-y than Bigfoot?”

“I can name a few things.”

Marshall chuckled, giving Benny head scratches. “C'mon. Let's go sit down for dinner.”

As it turned out, Swedish pizza was simply meatball pizza. How that made it Swedish, Dash had zero idea, but that didn't stop him from devouring several pieces (including one Mars had been eyeing but grudgingly surrendered to Dash). He cast a surreptitious glance around the table as he ate and was surprised that it didn't feel awkward, sitting around with a family around the dinner table. On the contrary, he actually felt kind of...

… at home?

 _Tch, this ain't your home, Dash. It's never gonna be, so stop living in a fantasy_ , he scolded himself. _It's Teller's, and it's always gonna be Teller's._

Inadvertently he caught Marshall's eye – Marshall must've seen something in the look on his face, because he immediately got up and said, “It's time for our Christmas Eve movie!”

“Yes!” Simon exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air; Benny chirruped from his dish on the floor, sensing the excitement. Marilyn got up and started collecting dishes.

“So, what's this Christmas Eve movie, anyway?” Dash asked as he passed off his plate to Marilyn. With a sheepish smile, she told him, “Well, actually... it's _Gremlins_.”

“ _ **Gremlins**_?” Dash echoed, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I think it's your origin story or something, so you might wanna pay close attention.” Marshall clapped him on the shoulder as he headed towards the couch and flashed him a grin over his shoulder. Strangely, the jibe made Dash feel better, and he realized abruptly that was exactly the intent.

 _Teller's actually being nice._ _Huh. Christmas spirit makes people do strange things._

The dishes were all set aside in the sink, and the Teller family settled in to watch _Gremlins_ – unsurprisingly, Marshall had started the tradition a number of years earlier (but before they'd moved to Eerie, oddly enough), and the rest of the family had found that they genuinely enjoyed the movie, so they continued to watch it every year on Christmas Eve.

“Who wants cookies?” Marilyn brought over a plate heaped high with Christmas cookies and handed it to Simon, who picked up one of the ones on top. It was shaped like a bell, but it had been frosted with a little green man in the middle and a row of lights along the bottom.

“Mars... did you frost some of these?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“Really? UFO's?” The plate had gotten to Syndi, who gave Marshall an incredulous look as she examined another one of the not-a-bell cookies.

“Are you really that surprised?” Dash asked her as he bit the head off an angel-shaped cookie. “This _is_ Marshall Teller we're talking about.”

“Well, son, they are, uh, quite creative,” Edgar noted. “Beautiful craftsmanship.”

Dash chuckled, shaking his head, but that didn't stop him from eating one of the UFO cookies, either. Marshall wanted to ask him if that was a form of cannibalism, but again he reminded himself, _Be nice... I don't want to explain that joke anyway._

By this point, the movie was nearing its end, so Syndi said, “Hey, can we open a present now?”

“I suppose it is that time...” Marilyn trailed off, looking at Dash. “We had a late arrival this year, though, so Santa may not have thought to bring a present here for him-”

“No, it's okay,” Dash held up a hand to stop her train of thought. “Don't worry about it. I probably just got coal anyway, and I can wait until tomorrow to open that.”

“Are you sure?”

Again, more concern from the Tellers – it was almost too much for Dash, but he shrugged it off. “Far be it from me to stop a family tradition. Go ahead.”

“Okay. Simon, will you do the honors?”

“Really, can I?” Simon's smile could've lit up the block. He went to the tree and started looking through the presents underneath, searching for one for everyone to open, as per their tradition. There was Edgar, Marilyn, Syndi, Marshall, one for him too, and -

“Huh?” Simon held up one of the presents and squinted at it, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

“What's wrong?” Marshall asked him.

“Nothing's wrong, it's just...” Simon held up the small box. “There _is_ a present for Dash here after all.”

“ _What_?” Marshall and Dash chorused in entirely different tones. Edgar nodded appreciatively.

“Of course, Santa must've snuck in while we were watching the movie,” he reasoned as Marilyn nodded in agreement. Marshall scoffed.

“I thought for sure Dash was on the naughty list.”

“Looks like you thought wrong,” Dash said, although he sounded bewildered. “Or maybe he's feeling particularly generous this year.”

Simon handed the presents out to everyone and they all dug in – Edgar, of course, got a geeky tie to add to his collection ( _variety is the spice of life!_ he thought happily); Marilyn got a particularly stunning necklace (she noticed the tag on the present was in Edgar's handwriting, and she beamed at him, making whatever amount he'd spent on that gift completely worth it); Syndi got one of the latest boy band albums (Marshall grimaced, knowing he'd be hearing that played non-stop for the next several months); Marshall got a New York Giants jersey (Giants clothes made up roughly a third of his wardrobe these days); and Simon got a book entitled _The Collector's Guide to the Weirdest Stamps on Earth_ (which sounded like a perfect marriage of his interests).

“Dash, what did you... get...” The words died in Marshall's throat as he saw what was in Dash's hand – a shiny silver Zippo lighter, which he kept flicking on and off in front of his face, mesmerized by the flame.

“Oh, isn't that neat?” Marilyn said. “I'm glad there was something here for you, too, Dash.”

Simon and Marshall gave each other horrified looks, but then Simon shrugged, like, _what can you do?_ Marshall could only sigh. It was a nice Christmas, but with a touch of weird, and wasn't that how it was supposed to be?


End file.
